Headin' into twilight, spreadin' out her wings tonight...
There is a woman in a bar wearing a US Army baseball cap and drinking like the world is going to end tomorrow. This is not the strange part.
The strange part is that she seems to be engaged in a very one-sided conversation about some nonsensical thing with the bartender, and this is only strange if you know her and have never seen her drunk. The bartender, for what it's worth, is looking like he would rather be anywhere else, especially since, for all the woman is small, slightly drunk, and, for all appearances, congenial.... She looks like someone who could kill you with her pinky if her mood changes. This would not be an entirely inaccurate assumption.
She's on what might be her fifth or sixth Cosmo, which is to blame for her chattiness. This would not be the drink most people would associate with a woman who looks like her, but, for the same reason that the bartender can't just ignore her, no one is questioning it.
All things considered, Amity Mackenzie (that's Mac to you) has had better weeks. This is how she deals with having bad weeks. Her journal is sitting right beside her elbow on the bar from where she just recent did the journaling equivelent of drunk-dialing her sister, because apparently after lurking in Chicago for a week and dealing with all the things one has to deal with when the army forces retirement on you, you eventually have to contact your only family in the area and tell them you're around... And if you're Mac, you do it while you're drunk.
Enjoy your elder Mackenzie sibling, Chicago.
The strange part is that she seems to be engaged in a very one-sided conversation about some nonsensical thing with the bartender, and this is only strange if you know her and have never seen her drunk. The bartender, for what it's worth, is looking like he would rather be anywhere else, especially since, for all the woman is small, slightly drunk, and, for all appearances, congenial.... She looks like someone who could kill you with her pinky if her mood changes. This would not be an entirely inaccurate assumption.
She's on what might be her fifth or sixth Cosmo, which is to blame for her chattiness. This would not be the drink most people would associate with a woman who looks like her, but, for the same reason that the bartender can't just ignore her, no one is questioning it.
All things considered, Amity Mackenzie (that's Mac to you) has had better weeks. This is how she deals with having bad weeks. Her journal is sitting right beside her elbow on the bar from where she just recent did the journaling equivelent of drunk-dialing her sister, because apparently after lurking in Chicago for a week and dealing with all the things one has to deal with when the army forces retirement on you, you eventually have to contact your only family in the area and tell them you're around... And if you're Mac, you do it while you're drunk.
Enjoy your elder Mackenzie sibling, Chicago.